Blonde Devastation
by wickedxdivine
Summary: One-Shot. Circa 1770. Rebekah goes on a slaughter to spite Niklaus.


**Circa 1770**

She was tired of Russia, tired of the terrible, dreary, weather and no amount of baroque splendor in St. Petersburg was enough to make up for it. She wanted nothing more than to leave.

"You said you wanted to settle for a while – that's what we're doing," Niklaus said, impatiently.

"I didn't mean here!" Rebekah whined.

"We aren't leaving. This is the first reprieve we've had from Mikael's endless hunt."

"I want to go to America, Nik."

"I'm sorry," Niklaus said, in a tone that implied he was actually not sorry at all. "But you can't always get what you want, dear sister."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

Bastard. He was only interested in staying in the first place because he wanted to add more of his ridiculous artwork to Catherine II's private art museum. She had no idea what the point of that was given it accomplished nothing. Then again, Nik rarely passed up a chance to pull one over on royalty.

"Fine, have it your way," she shoved past him.

It was a rarity for Niklaus to be absent from her side. Rebekah took this opportunity to escape their living quarters.

It was late, not many people were out on the streets, but she remembered one of the acquaintances she made here mentioning a small party taking place at one of the noble's mansions.

xxxxxx

The insufferable guard-dog outside the residence was not helping her temper.

"I don't see a Rebekah listed here," he said for the twentieth time. (okay maybe it was just the second time)

Rebekah reached out, yanking him by the front of his collar toward her.

"Here's what you're going to do. You're going to let me inside, and then you're going to lock all of the doors. No one goes in. No one comes out," she compelled. "If you're lucky, I'll even let you live."

She shoved him away from her, lifted her dress from the side, and walked up the steps to this affair like the lovely lady they all thought she was.

The door opened into a large, unoccupied space. The great hall. The dance floor was directly in front of her, the dining room and kitchen were off to the left, and to the right she assumed a study or library of sorts. Behind the dance floor was a double staircase, leading to the bedrooms.

All of these doors appeared to be shut, and most likely locked. It wasn't always the best idea to leave rooms and personals unattended, no matter how well you knew everyone on the guest list. This just made it easier.

She looked toward the dining area; everyone was either sitting and finishing their meals or idly conversing. Not too big of a crowd, but not too small. Rebekah took a headcount. There were maybe twenty guests here, perhaps an additional three for the waiting staff.

"Rebekah!"

She turned to the direction of her name, meeting eyes with the acquaintance that had invited her here in the first place.

She looked ghastlier than usual. Who would ever pair those colors together?

"Irina, so good to see you again," Rebekah lied through her teeth.

"You made it!"

"How could I pass up such a pleasant evening?"

"I had thought to find Niklaus with you," Irina said.

So, _that's_ why Irina invited her. Just so she could have another chance to try and get her grubby hands on her brother. Suck up. As if Nik would go for a petty tramp like her.

"He's busy," Rebekah snapped.

Irina pursed her lips, seemingly surprised by her short attitude.

"That's a shame, but the good news is that you're just in time! We'll need to find you a partner for the -"

"Oh no no, don't worry about me," Rebekah said quickly.

"Are you sure?" Irina hesitated.

"Yes, go on without me!"

xxxxxx

While the guests congregated on the dance floor, Rebekah went the opposite way to the kitchens.

She found one of the servant's behind a counter, filling more glasses with champagne.

She took a seat, smiling coyly at him when he turned – slightly startled to find her sitting there.

"Is there something I can help you with? Would you like something to drink?" He asked.

"I'm afraid what I want isn't on the menu," Rebekah leaned further over the counter.

She noticed the obvious shift in his eyes. Though, in his defense, her corset might have been a tad too tight.

He placed his elbows on the counter and bent toward her.

"Surely there's something I can do about that."

Rebekah let out a mirthful laugh. He was all too willing to help.

"There actually is," she whispered in his ear.

Her fangs were instantly embedded into his throat, tearing it open and sucking the hot blood from his fragile form.

His body slid along the counter and hit the floor within seconds. Rebekah picked up a stray table napkin, and daintily wiped her mouth before slipping away unnoticed.

So, her _dear _brother thought she couldn't get what she wanted? It's not like she'd been with him for countless years, always going where _he_ chose, doing what _he_ wanted. The time for turning tables was long past.

Renewed by the thrill of her kill and the taste of blood flowing through her being, she was aching to attack. She watched her prey from across the room, each of them twirling; laughing…that would end soon enough.

A scream broke through the din of noise.

Rebekah smirked. Right on time.

Everyone in the room dashed to the source of the scream, some letting out their own once they saw the body. A few stayed back, but Rebekah remained invisible to the crowd.

The commotion grew louder while someone checked to see if the man was still breathing, another remarked on how it looked like he'd been bitten, and Rebekah noticed several of the guests exchanging hostile and wary glances. They were the ones that got the head start – scattering away from the scene in an attempt to find help or simply to save their own skins.

The doorknob to the main entrance rattled and shook as several people tried prying it open to no avail.

Rebekah reached behind her, hand crawling along the plush tablecloth until she touched silver. She slid the knife from the table, hiding it at her side in the folds of her dress.

Her eyes instinctively jumped to a man reaching in his pocket, pulling out a key. She couldn't put her finger on the man's name, but he was the owner and host of this little soirée.

"I'll open it!" He moved to the front, shoving people out of his way in an attempt to reach the door.

In one deft movement, Rebekah raised her arm and flung the knife toward the host. It whizzed through the air, bypassing multiple people, and embedded itself in the back of her victim's head.

The veins beneath her eyes darkened. Her eyes turned red. Rebekah bared her teeth, hissing loudly at her spectators. She gave them a brief moment - that tiny second that allowed the fear and confusion to fully set in – and then she was upon them.

In a blur of fury, Rebekah was at another man's throat; her fangs ripped the skin clean off his neck, leaving a gaping and oozing hole.

The bodies were barely close to hitting the floor by the time Rebekah was already lunging at her next target. She attacked a woman from behind, buried her teeth in the woman's carotid artery and let the blood gush and flow into her eager mouth.

People scattered in every direction, hoping to find an alternate escape route. There were vague shouts here and there of "Run!", "Someone please help us!", and "Blood-drinker!" but mostly it was frantic screaming and crying.

Those that stayed behind were all rushing to reach the key.

Just as a dark-haired woman pried it from the dead hand of the host, Rebekah grabbed her by the wrist and broke her hand backward – taking the key for herself.

"Looking for this?" Rebekah asked, pointedly looking at the group of people surrounding her whilst holding up the key to their future.

She suddenly felt several hands latch onto her from behind in an attempt to subdue her. She twisted her head to see five men.

Ugh, men. They always thought they were invincible against a woman. Just like Nik thought he could always tell her what to do.

She easily twisted out of their grasp and threw two of them across the room with a shove to the chest. The other three's necks snapped like twigs in her capable hands.

She knelt down and jerked the knife from the host's head. The girl whose hand she'd broken was scurrying away from her, albeit doing a terrible job of it in-between the wailing.

Rebekah sighed, quickly stabbing the dark-haired girl through the heart and putting her out of her misery.

The people who ran earlier must have realized the other exits were locked, because they were soon forced back to the open arena that was the dance floor – the windows were near here after all.

The tall windows were curtained in a thick brown silk, fringed with gold, and tied together. Those who managed to remain fairly coherent were grabbing chairs to throw through the windows or trying to pull the curtains back.

Rebekah wrenched a chair from one man's grasp as he was running to throw it, and swung it around with such force that it sent several people to the ground. The chair broke into pieces at the impact. Rebekah snatched a piece of the wood up and drove it through another man's back, hearing his spine crack.

She moved like a wraith between these half-witted humans, picking off each mark with the precision of a true huntress.

What was previously a dance floor became her killing ground. She was the only dancer allowed here, for it was not a dance of joy and song – it was a dance of slaughter.

Her feet knew these steps well and her body knew this rhythm well.

Child's play really. She could have finished them all off within seconds but why not make the most of it? Their small glimmer of hope and will to keep fighting was part of the fun. But try as they might, these mortals were doomed.

Like clockwork she twirled around the room, tearing one woman's throat, crushing one man's skull, violently breaking another's neck, and feeding until she could feed no more.

Her light curls slipped from the braided updo she had so painstakingly put together as she danced. Blood wet her lips and chin, and splattered along her bare chest and the white lace lining the top of her dress.

A true vision of chaos and devastation.

She turned to the few remaining patrons, all of them crying, huddled like sheep in the corner of the room.

She made quick work of them.

Rebekah caught sight of Irina, crawling on hands and knees. Each victim's blood flowed along the floor, melding and meshing together as one. Irina's hands were soaked.

She skirted over to her and took a fistful of Irina's blonde hair in her hand. Irina squealed in pain as she was lifted from the ground and thrown against the adjacent wall.

Rebekah's hand shot out, gripping her tightly by the throat.

"Why are," Irina coughed, trying to form her words. "Why are you doing this?"

"They're nothing personal. You, on the other hand, well, I just never liked you very much."

Rebekah leaned in closer.

"Neither did Niklaus," she said venomously. She smiled at Irina as she tightened her grip on her neck and smothered out the rest of her pitiful life.

There was an audible thud when her body hit the floor, followed by total and complete silence.

She knew Niklaus would come looking for her soon enough. Once he realized how long she had been gone.

Rebekah took a seat on the bottom of the staircase, lending a perfect view to the countless bodies strewn across the floor. Niklaus wouldn't be happy, and the mere thought pleased her to no end.

She heard the door being forced open, and when she raised her eyes she saw him standing in the doorway. He probably had no difficulty following such a strong scent of blood.

Niklaus' eyes scanned the room, and for a brief moment Rebekah could have sworn that he looked…impressed? Something else was there too, though. If she didn't know any better she thought he looked rather peeved, possibly even sad that she did this without him.

When he finally raised his eyes to hers, his jaw was set and his cool composure was in place.

She smirked at him in greeting, licking a drop of blood from her fingers.

"Can we go now?" Rebekah asked in smug sweetness.

He glared at her.

A massacre like this would have Mikael here in no time, and there was absolutely no chance they could risk staying here regardless given what Rebekah had done.

Rebekah stood from her place on the stairs.

A sea of blood and bodies lay between her and Niklaus.

His eyes flickered down, taking in the full image of her form as she rose, before settling momentarily on her crimson caked lips.

"Stubborn little thing, aren't you?" he muttered.

Niklaus let out a growl of frustration as he approached her, knowing full well there was nothing he could do to fix the situation. He grabbed her by the arm, hauling her away from the carnage.

Rebekah nearly stumbled over a body outside the house - the man she compelled earlier. Niklaus must have killed him. Suppose he wasn't too lucky.


End file.
